


Honey, Whatcha Waiting For?

by InsominiacArrest



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe, Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Snark, the heathers being assholes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10115033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsominiacArrest/pseuds/InsominiacArrest
Summary: Veronica Sawyer is the District 7 tribute for the 42nd Hunger Games, her only skill is writing down what’s going on- almost useful in an arena that is sometimes a maze.She manages to make an alliance with the careers known as ‘The Heathers’ and tries to survive along the way





	

**Author's Note:**

> warning, hunger games my dude, so some Real Violence and murder and junk

Veronica looked out across the empty white plains, her breath was dusty in her throat and her eyes were crusted with a grit underneath her eyelids that hadn't left for days now. She rubs her hands together out of habit and swings her pack around. 

Veronica peeked down at her notebook and then back up to the “sun” up above, she squinted and marked down an eleventh checkmark: she had approximately an hour left.

She hefted her pack higher on her shoulder and began to her walk. Her feet shifted underneath her in an unending struggle with the sand and she staggered up the sloping hills. Her thighs ached as they had for days now and the planes spread around her exhaustively in every direction.

She took deep breaths and concentrated on the shiny silver dome in the distance, a glint of pearl on the horizon. Veronica kept a single-minded attention on it.

She was sick of the thirst, sick of sleeping with one eye open, sick of her own running and hiding and cowering and hiding some more. She keeps the green oasis to her back and stumbles over another hill.

She gulped dryly and takes a brief sip from her jug of water tied around her waist, she repeats the phrases in her head: _you survived this far, you survived this long, move up or perish._

Veronica pushes her bangs back and wipes the sweat uselessly off her brow. The dome approaches like a dream she is getting close enough to actually touch, she starts jogging forward.

“Dammit,” She loses her footing at the top, “fuck, fuck!” She practically trips down one of the last inclines and tumbles to the bottom like a sack of potatoes. “Ugh.” The grit covers her face and clothes and she wipes at her cheeks impotently.

The silver dome is feet away and she starts to crawl. “This will be fucking beautiful.” She almost says directly into the camera, maybe they would appreciate the sentiment.

Veronica hears the exchange before she sees it: “Maybe you should have thought of that before you drove all the way here.” It was a snide and snippy voice that she recognized right away, one of  _them._

She shakes the dust out of her hair, wets her lips, and falters to her feet to present someone half-decent.

“Thanks for the motor,” Heather Duke says mockingly and the face of the tribute from district 6 lurched into view as he fell backward into the sand. A troupe of three girls approaches him like a pack of wolves.

“I have skills,” The tribute from 6 says with his hands up, “I can get you food, water... heads of other tributes, anything.”  
  
Heather Chandler sniffs dismissively down and Veronica hesitates as she moves forward, Heather Chandler had her hands on her hips, “You think I can’t get those myself? You’re just a pathetic bottom feeder. Maybe a walking dick on legs for what it’s worth, but from what I’ve seen, I’m not impressed.”

The tribute from six’s eyes go wide, “A trade, we could make trades.”  
  
“For what?” Heather McNamara asks as she leans forward menacingly.

“Protection.” He gulps weakly and Veronica frowns, so she wasn’t the only one.

Heather Chandler gives the kind of laugh you hear from morticians before they make the first cut, “I’ve seen mounds of shit I’d rather protect more.”  
  
He tried to pull himself up, “Fine. Okay.” He looks around and seemed to recognize this wasn’t going his way. “I’ll go back to the oasis, enjoy the bike.”

Heather Duke struts forward, Veronica watches her long dark hair swing back and forth over her russet red shirt, “Not so fast fuckface,” She step on the back of his shoe heel, “I’m not sure you’ve gathered the full objective of this game.”  
  
“No,” His hands balled up, “I brought you a motorcycle, you have to honor exchanges.”  
  
Heather Chandler pivots her chainsaw from her hip to her hands, “I see you think Hunger Games is a summer camp,” She grabbed the wire at the back and yanked it as hard as she could, it revved to life like the roar of a smothered beast, “Let’s roast some marshmallows.”  
  
“Ah!” He scrambles backward from the whirring chainsaw.

Veronica flinches and holds her breath, she brings her hands to her face to maybe not watch? She hadn’t quiet gotten used to the whole ‘blood sport and murder-guts-and-massacre thing.’

Then again...she wanted to live.

Veronica glances up at the sky, and then back to the shaking tribute from 6 about to piss himself in broad daylight. But he still had a chance.

Veronica lunged forward, tossing herself into full view, “It’s about to shift!” The Heather’s turn toward her sync, their full lips dipping into snarls, but Veronica throws her hands up, “It’s about to shift!”  
  
They all glanced at each other, and as if on cue, the sand began to ripple like a swelling ocean and shake the ground. The Heather’s turned on their heels without hesitation and the first spikes burst from the ground like the devil's horns.

Veronica scurries to the side and can’t help but trail The Heathers, there was only one place to go after all. Sweat runs down her back as she grasps toward the silver dome.

The spiked walls emerged like terrifying iron barricades that disturb the entire landscape: eating the world whole. Veronica struggles to keep her footing and keep running as the sand suctions at the soles of her feet.

She can feel her lungs burn and the sink catches her ankle, trying to swallow her foot whole. She flung her arms desperately forward and her hands by the grace of random fuckery fell on the burning outside of the metal dome.

She ignores the raw searing alloy against her skin and climbs. Veronica lifts herself inch by inch up the closest hand holds and away from the yawning death-trap trying to ruin her day.

“Ah, aaaaaaah!” Veronica hears a deep and blood-curdling scream, she whips her head around just in time to watch Heather Chandler kick the tribute from district six off of the sanctuary. His body arches upward in air as if in slow motion and lands almost perfectly onto one of the rising spikes.

Veronica swallows painfully. Well fuck.

Blood burst out of his mouth and the spear drove through his chest from the force of the lifting instrument and the weight of his own body dragged him down, down, down. A bloody trail was left dripping down the spear as he spasmed.

Veronica forced herself not to look away, she was going to have to get used to the whole ‘blood sport murder-gore game,’ and show the Heather’s she wasn’t a pansy.

The boy convulsed for a moment, his eyes searching sightlessly into the pale blue sky before going to still, very still. The process looked blessedly quick.

The creaking grating spiked walls of the arena locked themselves into place and the sand slowly, slowly settled. The game’s maze that occupied the arena half the time was in place.

Veronica’s neck burns as she feels a pair of eyes land on her, she glances nervously behind over her shoulder, The Heather’s stare openly. There is a strange impasse between them, like she was 15 again and trying to ask a boy out for the first time.

“Uh,” She opens her mouth and rubs the back of her neck, “How’s it going?” She cringes at herself immediately.

Heather Chandler flips her long blonde hair over her shoulder, accessing her mildly, “How did you know when the walls were going to rise?” She gets right to the point as the other Heather’s look to her for guidance.

Veronica sat up straight: _your chance._ Protection. “I keep track, in here,” She holds up her notebook, “I watch the sun, and uh, make marks.” She explains.

Heather McNamara leans forward from her perch, “Oh! You’re the girl who grabbed the notebook first thing when we all got to the cornucopia, I remember.” She blinks, “We all thought you’d be dead.” She says lightly and Veronica’s eye twitches, but McNamara was smiling airily.

Heather Duke gives out a dismissive laugh, “Notebook girl! The fucking clerk is still alive.”  
  
Veronica looked away, “I grabbed some water too,” She frowns.  
  
She could feel Heather Chandler looking her up and down, “You _have_ survived this long.” Veronica can’t help but lift her head at the praise from the gladiators of the game.

“Having a good time?” Heather McNamara asks blankly as if she was curious and Veronica immediately makes a face at her.

“I mean, sure, if you don’t mind everyone trying to outright murder you all the time and being a dick ‘cause they can now, sure.” She snorts and scratches her wrist, thinking of alliances people already broke with her.

Heather McNamara looks to the other two, “No one tries to kill us all the time.”  
  
Heather Chandler thwaps Heather Mcnamara on the shoulder, “Because we’re careers idiot, they wouldn’t fucking dare- unless they want to be like that kid.” She points at the male tribute lying splayed face up toward the bright bright sun, Chandler pats the chainsaw at her side.

Veronica nods slowly, “I would like to not be messed with.”  
  
“How about this,” Heather Chandler slides down the silver dome to sit next to her, “You give us the pretty, notebook, and we’ll let you live.”  
  
Veronica lifted her chin, she was prepared for this, “I’m the only one that can read it, and,” She glances back to the maze, “I have other skills too. You can’t just _use_ my notebook.”

Heather Chandler frowns and Veronica tries not to cower or plead for her life, Chandler looks her over, “What can you do?”

She takes a deep breath, “Maps.” She flips through her pages, “I’ve mapped parts of the maze- with stash points and memorized some.” _Doesn't look so dumb to grab the notebook now, does it?_  she resists telling them.  
  
Heather Chandler raised one fine eyebrow, “maps?”  
  
She nods quickly, “I can get you through it and to loots, I have them marked.”

Heather Chandler gives the most wicked grin she’s ever seen, “You look a puny excuse for walking dead meat….But, that may be the most useful thing I’ve heard this entire tournament,” She looks over her shoulder loosely, “Maybe the rest of you should keep up.”

This praise didn’t feel quite as lucrative as the rest of the Heather’s narrow their eyes at her. Veronica turns back to Chandler, “Is that a yes?” She asks hoarsely and forces herself to meet her blue gaze.

Heather Chandler reaches forward and strokes her face sweetly- and she might as well have punched it, “Sure.” The wicked grin is back, she throws her hands in the air as if in presentation and of the dome beneath them, “Welcome to the candy store biotch.”

Veronica let out the breath she was holding.

  
She still had a chance. She looked at the blinding white horizon with the green patch in the opposite direction, fuck, she might live.

**Author's Note:**

> considering continuing but feedback for the level of interest would be great! :D


End file.
